TWO months ago, the Observer colour magazine ran an eight page story on "how a group is made and promoted97first in the clubs, then on television, then on records, and finally in quest of the real prize97America." A journalist spent two months following the four-man outfit around watching, questioning and cross-questioning the machinery, intrigues, finances and gimmicks, from London 'to New York.

The group wasn't the Beatles or the Rolling Stones. Nor the Kinks nor the Walker Brothers. The story was built around The Who – "four loud, wild men who wear pop art clothes and Union Jacks".

They shot to fame with their recording of "My Generation" and they are in Ireland at the moment on a three-day visit. They wind it up with an appearance at the Cavalier Club, here in Dublin to-night before topping a concert later in the night at the National Stadium. They will be heard in the Arcadia, Cork, to-morrow night.

PETE'S SOUND

The Who claim to have the most far-out sound and stage act that Britain or anywhere else has produced. And indeed I've heard that so often before that I could almost put it to music and sing it myself.

Their publicity blurb hails them as four young men from Shephards Bush in West London "which is a very tough area where most of the boys would sooner join a street gang than play in a group". Shepherds Bush also has a heavy concentration of Irish, and most of them never joined groups. I know they haven't gone to the other extreme.

Anyhow Roger Daltrey, lead singer and John Entwistle, bassist, began their public appearances in an insignificant group called The Detours. Later they decided to form their own group, but it proved harder than they had anticipated to find members who shared their musical tastes.

One day, in a coffee shop, they met Pete Townshend (that name rings a bell), who had never been to Buckingham Palace but who played guitar and, for extra value, had a recording studio in his father's garage, where he made complicated multiple-track tapes that no one understood. After an audition, Peter was in.

The trio laid their hands on a drummer, but they could not hit on a name. The Who was the obvious outcome. The audiences loved them but there was something wrong. That something was the drummer. According to the other three – he was too ordinary and didn't signify anything – whatever that means. They took the late Jim Reeves' advice – he had to go.

The replacement was in the long-haired shape of Keith Moon – and on the first night he broke four sets of drumsticks. Everything soon fell into place, however, and before they ever recorded, they were breaking box-office attendances at places such as London's Marquee and Scene. Just like the showbands.

UNION JACKS

Before joining The Who, Pete had been a student at an art school, where he was deeply involved with avant-garde forms of printing, especially pop art. He started sticking and printing weird symbols on shirts and sweaters. The others followed suit – and took both the record and fashion worlds by storm simultaneously. Pete brought the idea a step further and covered his speaker cabinets with Union Jacks. I hope they don't show up with any of those here.

"My Generation" sold more than 300,000 records, won a silver disc, became an international hit and assured the group of a gross income of over 3,000 a week. They are managed by Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp. Stamp is the son of an East End tugboatman and brother of Terence Stamp the film star.